


monstrum.

by valvet



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Historical References, Letters, Pain Feeding, Romance, self awareness, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valvet/pseuds/valvet
Summary: Red Jack and his trip down memory lane, and his many loves.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	monstrum.

The word monster; an English word to describe a beast came from the word monstrum, Latin for the definition of what the gods above deem as noticeably evil; violently foaming at the mouth and such. To imply such a thing would be an insult to most; as it should, would any man want to be denounced as a monstrous one? An evil being? 

To some, yes, but not out of reasons that are natural, those beasts (of murderers and the most foul kinds of offenders) desire one thing, fame, they desire the beholding eyes of the gods to look upon them and either; writhe in terror or clap at his show. They do get those things when caught, but usually a quick death comes afterwards for their crimes against the good natured of men.

But, that's not to say an actual beast; monstrum, wouldn't have natural reasons to be like that. The stage is set, alas upon our poors souls! For the world always needs violence, The Void makes sure of that, and thus from the ashes of men, the plague and its scent of death came a white hand from the guts of a dead man; it was he; covered in blood and teeth sharp did the world come to know him (for he named himself!) as Red Jack.

It wouldn't take long for the world of men to fear his monstrous outside; they are always so picky when it comes to looks in Europe. At first, he wasn't as outwardly gentlemen like; instead; a letter would come to the current monarch of England in 1665; only a century earlier had the beast been made.

_To Charles,_

_Bravio to your horrid country you swinish beast! In all my searching as what you’d call a “nomadic life” (I say it politely of course, I know what you’d dare to call beasts such as i), i have never seen a country ever so vile as yours, streets covered in shit and any bodily fluids a man could make, women and whores crying in the streets as their babes die in their arms. France, your most hated neighbor is like this as well, all pigs are the same meat wise, but you my friend; by your Christian god is it disgusting!_

_I will enjoy feasting upon those babes,_

_Red Jack._

He did, as Saturn devoured his children so did he; all children made from the violence of men, the hate they kindled from the conditions they lived; for men are made to be violent, but Jack was born in it. No ransom or gift was to be given for him to stop; no, until he was to figure out his feed, his meal of what made him full inside (could a beast made from such ideals ever be full?). He would eat them alive until that blasted country that he’d stay would burn to the ground. But it never filled him; even then as he laid within his manor of blood; his new homemade from the bones of babes and men of war, it never made him high; finally able to rest for just a moment. The hunger was all consuming.

1775 was the turning point of his life; a letter had somehow come to him; he never cared for human homes; ever so small they were; not to say they weren't something he occupied; oh of course he did! A small house in the outskirts of London, far away from the scents of others.

_To whomever lives in this state,_

_Well, if you are to exist at all, I’d state this more as me, a foolish man taking a chance. Ah, forgive me for no introduction, if you so desire my name, I am L (yes, the roman letter) Mengel, my actual name of birth serves nothing here. For a while i have been watching over the houses in the area, no i’m no rich man, but i like to people watch. I’ve never seen you, but i see the candlelight go out; i know i hear people come from your estate and all I ask, is that i wish to see your face. My collection is vast of the people who live in the area, not for any college it is for, but for the sake of the others around me. If you would so kindly, come and find me. I come around in between the sunsetting in the area; be kind and if you need’d help getting out of the home, i gladly will help._

_Salutations,_

_L Mengel._

How interesting, Jack felt a rush of blood go right through his head, and he laughed. That was new, welcomed even.

_To Mr. Mengel, my watcher,_

_What a surprise you came to me as! I would never expect such...talk; not to be anything but a person, nobody talks to me much; they know me by many names; the red ripper, the shadow man, but no one ever so talkative as you! Sadly i am away, for i don't actually own the estate, the owners of Robert and Margerat have been dead for almost a decade due to my hands. But if you do still desire to come; to meet, then i can steal you away perhaps. Tell me, do you like cards? Play some while in your little house, have th3e candle on and perhaps i’ll join you._

_Red Jack_

Again, not a response, instead an angry mob came to the door; the police--those pigs demanding justice. That's when he learned one thing, never to love another until they have fallen for you, and thus--Cecil Hardwood came into the picture.

He had been watching him for a while, even before The Void took his skin and molded into horrors, the way his tongue moved against his mouth just made him feel ever so much! Jack adored him even more when he became the Lord of Death, the Violence, oh-but could he love him?

After all, he could flee--but to where? Nowhere left to hide except for his own domain--the perfect chase for his hunger. The perfect meal, even. Jack acted quick upon him, however--another lover brewed within his picture--Mr. Eric Morden; the Madness; the Everwatcher; oh was he not pleased at Cecil’s lack of presence!

“I don’t care if you have a fetish for him! He’s mine, you hear me? MINE! I was his lover first, I am supposed to be his, and he is mine! Now, give him back you pain fetishist freak or i swear to god--”

Jack didn't hesitate to love Eric back.

“Now Mr. Morden, no need to be crude, i am able to share my love for a beast like you, your taste is bitter to the tongue, but lingers on like you do in my skull with those words” 

For everything Mr Nobody; the idea, not the person was, he certainly was a lover; a hidden one, but oh those nights he’d take turns between the two; to die for it was! 

It wasn't love though, love was a human emotion--something that only the most elegant of gentlemen could feel, was he that? He tried to be, but underneath he was a beast, teeth and gore. 

“Do you think I can love, Cecil?” Jack asked, the eyes (of eight Cecil had that night) opened and he sighed.

“Maybe, I don't know--you could, I can imagine you can, if we are going by that--can I love?” 

“You love me, and Mr. Morden” 

“Do you love me?” 

Silence for a moment

“I..think I do” the taste was odd, like the way violence and pain festered in his stomach, but with more moving parts to it--the eyes, the liver and the heart. Was that love? When he would bite into Cecil’s neck and drain his blood, is that what love was like?

When he took the gentlemen of the English court with him to his palace, and kissed them with ever so much lust and made sweet music to them--made them beg for mercy underneath him--did he love them? 

Can a monster love if all he ever knew was violence? 

**Author's Note:**

> i got really tired and wrote this. so its bad not good very bad do not enjoy it


End file.
